68th Ottawa Guides South Division
Here are some poems on the White Oak, Bur Oak and Red Oak that our leader Sheila made up.
My leaves are lobed and smooth-edged, They narrow at each end. My acorns are delicious, My branches wide extend.
So when you see a White Oak, Spare it a friendly smile. It may have lived 500 years And stood there quite a while!
When people think of oak trees, Of course they think of me! I have classic spreading branches, Were birds nest happily!
My leaves are lobed and pointed. Look for points along the side. I like rocky, gravelly places In upland woods where I reside.
I may live a very long time, 300 years or more. In autumn I am splendid With crimson leaves galore.
I like to live with white pine And trembling Aspen too. My acorns are quite bitter- And must soak before they stew.
My acorns are unusual, They're found inside a bur! My leaves are wide at one end, They they narrow, to be sure!
I'm a great oak, an old oak, My trunk is gnarled, it's true. My bark is fire-resistant; And withstands pollution too!
So many creatures eat them, My acorns are so sweet, That squirrels, deer and chipmunks All hunt them as a treat!
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